|Jay Gatsby (gatz) wrote in spinningcompass,|
@ 2014-01-25 20:37:00
|Entry tags:||!open, ~raymond grey|
Who? Gatsby & OPEN
Where? The pub
When? Saturday night.
What? Playing bartender.
Rating? Probably low.
Jay couldn't help thinking about what Mitchell had offered. He had said yes, because- well, if it was true that people went home after they died, then that didn't count for him. After he'd been hit by the lightning, there had been nothing. Just blackness, just nothing. And knowing how regularly the island liked to kill off its residents, that nothingness would end up returning one of these days.
But maybe he'd been lucky already. He was meant to be dead, he had a second chance on the island- maybe he was being greedy by wanting to prevent his own death. He was confusing himself.
And he missed Nick, terribly. He didn't know if he missed Daisy or not, but he did miss having a goal, having something to strive for. Of course he missed intimacy, and he missed- risk, and work, and living life in the fast lane- and there was so much that he didn't miss at all. Things were never going to be perfect.
Saturday night in the pub. Maybe someone even more miserable and lonely than him would need a distraction, and he could provide a cocktail and a sympathetic ear.